Chosen by Fate
by IrishArcher
Summary: Sierra Malone has everything a 14-year-old girl could want: two rich parents, two older siblings, a big house, and tons of friends. So why does she feel like she doesn't belong? Yggdrasil, the supposedly fictional World Tree, has the answers, as well as a plan. A plan to save a prince, a girl, and ultimately, the universe. Set right before the beginning of Thor 2.
1. Prologue

**Okay, let me start off by saying A Kitten in the Palace has not been abandoned. It is on temporary hiatus while I work on other things (AKA possibly preparing for Nanowrimo) and also I may or may not have a severe case of ****_taliae scriptoris_**** (writer's block). That being said, I suddenly had this idea in the shower at around 3:00 in the morning (best time and place for ideas, right?), and figured it was too vivid not to write down. So here it is. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Marvel, this would be a movie script, not a fanfiction. I'd also have an editor.**

* * *

Yggdrasil, the World Tree, surveyed her realms thoughtfully. Her sentience was a fact known only to a select few, and her omniscience known only to one besides the Norns themselves. But the fact of the matter was, since the beginning of the universe, Yggdrasil knew everything. Everything that would happen, everything that could happen, and everything that must be prevented at all costs. That being said, she did not interfere unless she absolutely needed to. Normally, events would work themselves out over time. But once, 3,467 years ago, she had been forced to make a choice. Forced to meddle in the lives of her children. 3,467 years ago, a man had decided to defy fate itself.

That man, of course, had no idea what the effects of his actions might be on the future of the universe, but Yggdrasil did. And Yggdrasil knew that the wrong choice could spell an early Ragnarok, an early end to all she had strived for. She couldn't let that happen, so she intervened. A twitch of a branch. Nothing much. But enough to stop a betrayal, a murder, and a war. And enough to nearly cripple her in pain, for a tree can only move itself with great determination.

And so Yggdrasil decided only Ragnarok itself could bring her to move, even inch, in any direction.

And as Yggdrasil set her gaze on the golden realm of Asgard, she knew she had to move. In her mind's eye she could see what no one else could. The future of the universe lay on the shoulders of one man, sitting in a cell.

Loki, of Jotunheim and Asgard, would need to make a choice. A choice that could potentially set off a chain of events that could only lead to war. The death of a queen. The loss of a king. A titan's rage. War was at hand. And Yggdrasil despised war more than anything. The fallen prince, the only one who knew the true power of Yggdrasil, was not going to make the right choice.

But as Yggdrasil searched the realms of her branches, she could see no other way. No hope of avoiding the coming storm. Not in the nine realms she had placed in the center.

Until something caught her eye. Nestled deeply in her farthest branches, cut off from all other realms, lay a sphere of blue. Identical to Midgard in appearance, it seemed to be the spitting image of the center realm. More primitive, perhaps, and with different people, but exactly the same in every other way. Earth-323.

And on this planet, this lonely universe of its own, was a light. And it was coming from a girl. A girl that was not meant to be there.

Yggdrasil stared intently at this enigma. A girl made for one world, was placed in another. How could this happen? A mistake had been made, a life misplaced, and now, everything was going wrong. Perhaps if this hadn't happened, the universe wouldn't be in this situation. Yggdrasil would not need to do what she was about to do, and everything would have been right. But nevertheless, it _had _happened, and it needed to be fixed. And, as much as Yggdrasil dreaded the pain it would inflict upon her, she knew she was the only one who could do it.

Slowly, steadily, she stretched one branch out towards the pale blue clone of Midgard, and, pain coursing through her entire being touched the young girl's light.


	2. A Quiet Rebel

**Alright, time for chapter two! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, please review, and I hope you enjoy :).**

**Disclaimer: I've written this 28 times already, I think it should be blatantly obvious by now that I. Own. Nothing.**

* * *

Sierra Malone was practically perfect. She was smart, funny, clever, pretty, athletic, artistic, kind, and polite, the epitome of a budding young lady. Sierra Malone wanted to die.

She didn't know when it happened, or even what "it" was. All she knew was that one day, she realized she wasn't happy. There was no obvious reason. She had tons of friends, her parents were still together, and her family was considerably rich. But she wasn't satisfied. Nothing ever seemed to satisfy her anymore.

She began to think completely differently. The people she had once considered her best friends, she now thought were fake. She didn't want any of the things her parents got her, and she became much more sensitive to her siblings' taunting. She secluded herself, locked herself up in her room alone for hours, not wanting to deal with anyone else. Shortly after her realization, she began to notice how they really treated her. That she was, in fact, only a third wheel. All her "best" friends had best friends of their own, and she was just the one with the money. The cool house where everyone could hang out. The nice clothes that people could borrow. Nothing but a tool to use. So she grew estranged from her friends, who she now realized, weren't really her friends at all.

And she grew away from her parents, who were never really there anyway. Both of them were lawyers, always caught up in some job or another, and so they never really had time for their three kids. Not that the other two seemed to mind. To the outside world, they seemed like loving parents. They gave their children everything they needed, bought them whatever they wanted for their birthdays, and provided them with things like cars and dresses and other fancy things. But they were never really _there._ They never talked to their children, never wondered how they were feeling, what was going on at school and in their lives. All that seemed to matter to them was the material aspect. When Sierra tried to talk to them, they would only half listen, never questioning, always focusing on other things at the same time. Sierra couldn't even remember the last time her parents had looked at her while she was speaking. It was like talking to a doll, that, every now and then, would give a well-placed nod and pretend to listen.

And so she gave up. She gave up on her friends who weren't her friends, gave up on her parents who pretended to love, gave up on her school work which had been going so well before. Now, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She quit horse-back riding, quit track, quit chess club and all the things that had made her so happy before. Everything seemed so bitter now, and she couldn't understand why. Why she had suddenly stopped caring about everything. Why it suddenly became natural to lie and fake a smile, which no one ever seemed to be able to see through. Why no one ever questioned what was going on with her. Was this normal? She didn't think so. Nobody else seemed to have this problem. Her siblings seemed unaffected. Her "friends" had never mentioned it. So why was she so different? Why was she always so different?

She was different from her family. She read more than either of her siblings, she enjoyed different genres of entertainment, she liked different music, and she was good at different activities. Her brother Jamie played varsity basketball, a sport Sierra had never had any interest in. Both he and her sister Rachel did swim team, while Sierra hated the water, and none of them seemed to enjoy riddles and chess like she did. The only thing they seemed to have in common was their thick, dark brown hair. Sierra had even taken to wearing brown contacts in fifth grade to cover up her blue-green eyes, yet another thing that set her apart from the rest of her family. No one knew where she got them from, their entire family had had brown eyes for several generations.

She was different from her "friends" too. While all of her friends seemed to stick with the same group of people every day, she was more of a social nomad. She would be friendly to anyone she met, and instantly connect with everyone. But then they would go their separate ways, and no one would remember her, though she could remember everyone she'd ever met. She never stuck out enough to make an impression, although she genuinely tried to pursue a friendship. The juniors and seniors knew her as "Jamie the Basketball Team Captain's little sister," and her friends' friends new her as "the rich friend with the cool stuff." Anyone who even sort of remembered her would point and say, "Sarah, right?"

She knew she was different from the way she would always lag far behind the group on field trips to give money to a homeless man, and how she knew she was faster than everybody else in her P.E. class, but still never won any races. How she brought the smallest lunch to school, even though she didn't have an eating disorder. The fact that she even _needed _to bring her own lunch because she was vegan, though everybody else in her family ate meat. The fact that she didn't watch TV, even though she had one in her room. The little things that all added up to make her one huge oddity. A quiet rebel.

And she used to take pride in being different. Saying things like, "I've never heard any of the songs on the top ten list," solely for shock effect. But now, even that was getting dull. Being different wasn't exciting anymore, it was miserable. Miserable and lonely, and she hated it. And now she wanted to die.

_Really, it shouldn't matter to anyone. I don't belong here anyway, _she said to herself, just before taking a detour to the pharmacy on her way home from school. She walked home, since it was only fifteen minutes away, and no one was ever there when she got home anyway, so no one would notice if she took a little longer than usual.

She slipped through the doors of the pharmacy, and no one looked twice as she scanned the aisles. She stopped by rack that held Amitriptyline. _How ironic would that be? Suicide by antidepressant overdose, _she thought grimly. She had thought about taking some sort of medication for her depression, but she realized that she didn't really want to get better. And it would seem fake, getting your emotions from a plastic container. And so here she was, worse than ever, and still not even considering it. She was far too gone already. Taking a deep breath and making up her mind, she snatched a random bottle from a shelf and tucked it in her sleeve. She had never stolen anything from a store before, and her heart beat wildly in her chest as she tried to act natural on her way out.

As the doors swung shut behind her, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and glanced back over her shoulder. No one was following her, that was a good sign. Still, not wanting to take any risks, she casually strolled through the parking lot until she was completely out of sight of the pharmacy, then she broke into a run. She kept the pills hidden in her sleeve as she tore off down the side of the road, sprinting like she used to do in track. When she reached a small side street that branched off of the main one, she slowed to a walk and took the fork. At the end of the street was a trail, a faded little footpath that led through a large grove of trees and eventually into a meadow. No one ever went there anymore, since all the children grew up and left the neighborhood. Sierra sometimes came here when she didn't feel like going home and having to interact with her siblings.

She chose this place for her suicide for one main reason. She hoped that nobody would ever have to find her still and lifeless body. As much as she wanted to end everything, she didn't want to cause suffering by doing it. And she knew she would never want to stumble upon a dead girl, especially if she knew who it was.

And so as she stepped into the clearing, a huge grassy field with no civilization in sight, Sierra looked around for an even more discrete hiding place. She couldn't find anything that would fit her 5'5" frame, so she had to settle for the middle of the field. Hopefully no new kids would decide to tromp through it any time within the next twenty years.

She stopped and sat down in the long grass, and finally took the bottle of pills from her sleeve. Apparently it was something called Suboxone, and was used to help people quit opium addictions. The reality of her situation came crashing down on her all of the sudden, and she finally felt a trill of fear for what she was about to do. She was really going to end her life. She was going to take these pills, and then it would all be over. No going back. No waking up. No second chances. She stared down at the little white plastic bottle in her hand, and took a moment to reflect on her life and how she came to be here.

Sierra was suddenly filled with regret. Regret that her life was going to be so short. Regret that it really was her fault, no matter what she said to blame other people. Regret that she would never find out if her life got better or not. And for a moment, she was almost tempted to put the pills down. And then she thought, _What's the point? Nobody needs me. Nobody even wants me, according to Rachel. She says it nearly every day, so she must mean it, right? _And once again her resolve was hardened._ It would be selfish not to take them, really_, she said to herself._ If the only reason I have for living is my own curiosity. You can't grieve for a future that hasn't happened yet. You especially can't grieve if you're dead._

And with that, she twisted the cap open with barely trembling hands, and poured six pills into her open palm. She stared at the little orange hexagons, her blood rushing in her ears. This was it. She raised the pills to her lips.

A strange tingling sensation started in her chest. That was weird, she hadn't even taken the pills yet. She lowered hand a little in confusion, and stared down at her midsection where the tingling was growing. It continued to grow and intensify until it felt like a million tiny needles were pricking her skin. The feeling started to expand outward, spreading from her chest to her arms, and down to her legs, until her entire body was buzzing.

The pills dropped from her hand altogether when she noticed a golden light starting to expand from her chest. What was going on? The light was growing too, following the same path as the tingling, going from chest to arms to legs, and then all the way down to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her vision swam with golden light, and Sierra squinted against the glow, wondering if she really had taken the pills already, and this was what it was like to die. This was the last thought that entered her mind before the light enveloped her, and she disappeared in a swirl of gold.


	3. Playing Chess

**Thank you so much for continuing to read this story! I hope you enjoy chapter 3! Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I. DO. NOT. OWN. ANYTHING. MARVEL. GOT THAT?**

* * *

Loki was sitting on the floor, resting his head against the wall of his cell, eyes shut and hands resting peacefully on his abdomen. His mother had just left him to attend to some work, and so he was pretending to nap until he either got bored, or she came again. He was often bored — there was nothing to do in his cage, despite his mother's best efforts. He was itching to get out, but he wouldn't give Odin the satisfaction of showing it. He sat still for nearly five minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore. He sighed softly and leaned his head back to look upwards, though there was nothing there. He picked up a book that lay beside him, flipped through it for a second, then tossed it away. He'd already read it. Twice. With a silent groan, he stood up and started pacing the length of his cell. Back and forth. Back and forth. He wished one of the guards was standing outside, he knew his pacing intimidated the younger ones.

He conjured a flame in his palm, glad, at least, that they had not restrained his magic. But magic could only go so far in the confines of his room. Party tricks and simple illusions were the most he could do. He quenched the flame and leaned back against the wall, looking out at the rest of the dungeons. He wished his mother would come back so he'd have someone to talk to. He didn't usually crave company, but this sort of confinement was exceedingly dull without it.

He turned back around, resigned to rereading his books for a third time, when something caught his eye. A glimmer of gold, so faint most people might have missed it. He looked closer, and this time there was no doubt in his mind: his blank white floor was shimmering with golden light. He approached the area cautiously, noting it was only a small patch, not the whole floor. He leaned down and inspected it. He could sense that it was magic, not that that was anything he couldn't already tell with his bare eye, but it was more powerful than anything he had seen. Well, since the void, at least. He peered at it closely. It seemed to be moving, expanding outward, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He stepped back, giving it room as it grew. He could make out a vague shape. Two arms, two legs, a head, a body… whatever it was was humanoid. The shimmering golden magic suddenly exploded in a blinding, golden flash.

When he finally blinked the lights from his eyes, Loki looked down at his floor to see a girl. She was small, maybe thirteen or fourteen mortal years. And her clothes were Midgardian. He stared at her, his confusion hidden under a mask of mild interest. Her breathing hitched, and he knew she was awake, though she didn't open her eyes.

"What an interesting apparition," Loki drawled, his tone the definition of boredom. The girl's eyes snapped open, and she inhaled sharply, turning her head to look at him with eyes wide with shock. Something flickered in them, almost like…recognition? Loki dismissed the thought. He'd never seen her before in his life.

Raising an eyebrow, he casually circled her, hands clasped behind his back. She made no move to rise from where she was lying.

"Can you talk?" he inquired mockingly. She stared up at him mutely for what seemed like ages, and he was about to turn away when she said jokingly,

"What would you do if I said no?"

His gaze snapped back to her, and his eyebrows rose, a hint of a smirk settling on his face. So she could talk.

"Who are you?" he interrogated, now that he knew she could answer. It was her turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"You expect me to give up my only advantage over you?"

He blinked. "What?"

"I know who you are, but you don't know me," she said with a smirk. Now he was really confused.

"That's not possible."

"Isn't it?" she said mildly, then added, "Loki."

* * *

Sierra felt air in her lungs, and surprised herself by feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time. She wasn't dead. She had no idea what had happened, but she wasn't dead. What _had_ happened? Her breathing hitched when she realized she was lying on a hard floor, rather than the grassy meadow she last remembered being in.

"What an interesting apparition," a smooth, velvety voice drawled in her ear. She started in shock—she wasn't alone. Snapping her head around to look up at the man, she recognized him instantly. Her eyes widened even further. That was definitely impossible.

A little over a year before, her friend Nicole had taken her to see _Thor_. Unlike Nicole, Sierra was definitely not a nerd. She wasn't a big fan of sci-fi, she wasn't at all interested in superheroes, and she'd never picked up a comic book in her life. Despite all that, she had agreed to go, since Nicole was moving away and it was kind of like a good-bye gift. She walked into the theater expecting to be bored out of her mind, certain she wouldn't like it at all. She walked out obsessed. She couldn't explain why, but for some reason she had felt an instant connection with Marvel Universe. It somehow felt right, in a way nothing else did. So, immediately after she got home, she binge watched all of the other Marvel movies, and read up as much as she could on the next ones. Needless to say, she saw both _Captain America_, and _The Avengers_ in theater, as well as the _Iron Man 3_ midnight premiere, and had been eagerly awaiting the next _Thor_ movie, which was going to come out soon. Come to think of it, the room she was in looked a lot like Loki's cell in the trailer.

Which made sense as he was standing right in front of her. But she still couldn't figure out how. What had happened in the meadow? What was that strange golden light? How did she get sucked into a movie that hadn't even come out yet? She stared up at him lost in her thoughts, confusion drowning out everything else. She might have been scared if she hadn't been so curious. Not to mention that fact that she had already proven she wasn't scared of death. As her mind reeled, she vaguely processed that he was speaking again.

"Can you talk?" he asked circling her predatorily, like a shark closing in on its prey. She took a moment to 1) realize that he was asking her a question, then 2) come up with a response. Could she talk? That was stupid, of course she could. But just saying yes would be boring. She couldn't say no, she didn't know how he would react. How would he react? There was an interesting question.

"What would you do if I said no?" she asked, partially hoping for a response. She was sort of insulting him for asking a silly question, but that was just her sense of humor. Apparently, he got the joke, because he smirked. Almost. He still had that you-are-inferior-to-me-in-every-way look on his face, which seemed to be the only expression his eyebrows could convey. Oh, well.

"Who are you?" he avoided her question. Sierra was slightly disappointed, she really had been curious. Not that she had really expected a response anyway. Without even realizing it, she automatically assumed a nonchalant air, which she did whenever she didn't know what to do. It had become a habit—her natural means of self-defense: acting confident so nobody saw how uncertain she was.

"You expect me to give up my only advantage over you?" she responded with a cocked eyebrow. It wasn't really her talking. It was the persona she had subconsciously taken on for this situation. Almost like lying without meaning to. But still, it was her natural reaction, and the first thing that came to mind. It apparently bewildered Loki.

"What?" he asked, losing his look of smug arrogance. Sierra smirked—she had successfully confused her opponent. It was just like chess.

"I know who you are, but you don't know me," she explained cockily. She didn't really know what she was doing, but whatever it was seemed to be working.

"That's not possible," Loki replied, looking decidedly flustered. This was not going how he had intended apparently.

"Isn't it?" she responded, still under her pretense of confidence. She did have quite the advantage over him, she realized. May as well rub it in. Her face morphed into an elusive "I know something you don't know" expression. "Loki," she said, knowing it would frustrate him. He stared down at her in shock.


	4. Spooked

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* * *

Loki stared down at her in shock. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How do you know my name?" he growled. Sure, he was a prince of Asgard, and almost everybody in the universe had at least heard of him. But by this point, Loki was 99.9% certain that this girl was mortal, and only a very few on Midgard knew who he was. The girl pursed her lips and looked up at him.

"I know many things, many of which I'm sure you wish I didn't. But there you have it, it's not like I can un-know things," she shrugged, sitting up. She leveled her infuriatingly calm gaze at him and waited, daring him to do something. Loki stared back, frustrated. He saw what she was trying to do. She was trying to rile him up, get his guard down so he would make a mistake. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't going to fall for it. After all, he had used that tactic himself on more than one occasion.

He leaned back and let a wide grin creep across his face. With a soft chuckle, he turned away from her, clasping his hands behind his back as he casually strolled across the room. He gave off an air of indifference as he pretended to preoccupy himself with some knickknacks on his table.

"Yes, that's all very well and good. But you still haven't answered my question. I asked _how_," he said, still refusing to look at her.

"I don't remember being obligated to answer your questions," she replied. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his floor now, looking for all the world like she couldn't be more comfortable. _Damn, this girl was irritating._

Loki turned his head to look over his shoulder at her and smirked.

"Well, then. I supposed I'll just have to convince you," he said softly.

* * *

Sierra felt a shiver of fear run up her spine at his words. She was only bluffing, after all. She was absolutely powerless to stop him if he actually did decide to do anything. Sure, she knew things, but what good was knowledge against _magic_?

At the same time, she shrugged it off. She had already proven she wasn't scared of death. Yet another voice whispered that pain was not the same as death. In fact, it was much, much worse. Sierra sighed as the conflicting emotions waged war inside her head.

"I can't tell you how I know," she finally conceded. "I can only tell you what. If you want to get an answer, you have to ask the right questions."

* * *

Loki smiled triumphantly. _Now_ he was getting somewhere. The silly child was only bluffing. He could tell by her answer she was scared out of her wits. It almost made him laugh.

Spinning back around to face her, he stood directly in front of her and stared down coldly.

"Then answer me. What is your name?"

She sat silently for a moment, weighing her options. Finally, she must've decided it couldn't hurt.

"Sierra. My name is Sierra Malone," she said. Even though it was clear she had lost, she still looked him in the eye defiantly. Loki smirked.

"And what exactly do you know about me?" he interrogated. She stayed quiet. Loki took a threatening step forward. With a sigh of resignation, she spoke up.

"I know that you're a prince of Asgard and were raised by Odin, but you were adopted as a baby and are actually a Frost Giant, the son of Laufey. I know you only found out about this a little more than a year ago, and it came as quite a shock to you. All your life you've been living in the shadow of your brother, Thor, and you tried to kill him last year after he was banished to earth by his father. You came up with a plan to try and prove your worth to Odin, and tried to destroy Jotunheim using the Bifrost, but you failed when Thor came back and stopped you. Then you tried to commit suicide by falling of the bridge and into the Void, but obviously that didn't work. I don't really know what happened after you fell, but somehow you ended up on a planet with the Titan, Thanos, and after a while he finally convinced you to work for him. Then you—"

"Wait, how do you know about Thanos?" Loki breathed. He was astounded that she knew so much about his past, but that was nothing she couldn't have learned from Odin. Thanos on the other hand...that was his secret. He hadn't told anyone. Sierra swallowed and looked up at him.

"Uh...I dunno, I just do, okay? I told you I couldn't tell you how I knew everything. I barely know anything about that anyway," she stammered.

"What _do _you know about it?" he whispered hoarsely, eyes flashing. She couldn't know about his weakness, his vulnerability...no one could know about that.

"Jeez...nothing, really. He offered you the earth in return for the Tesseract, gave you an army of Chitauri, and...possibly...I don't know," she shrugged.

"Possibly...what?" Loki pressed. There was something she wasn't telling him. She muttered something uncertainly. "_What?_" he snarled. Something snapped inside him and he grabbed the front of her shirt, dragging her to her feet and shoving her against the wall of his cell. She yelped, and the startled look on her face gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"I don't know...tortured you?" she exclaimed staring concernedly into his eyes. His gaze was intense, his breathing heavy.

"How...?" he swallowed, letting go of her shirt and letting her crumple to the floor. "Who told you all of this?" he growled, looming over her menacingly. She stared up at him with wide eyes and shook her head.

"No one," she said softly.

"Someone must have! Was is Odin? _Tell me!_" he roared desperately. He had to know who else knew. He had to know who this girl was, who she was working for...a terrible realization struck him. She was working for _h__im. _She must be. He had found him, just as he said he would. Loki took a step back, eyes wide and feral. The child on the floor shrank back into the wall.

"Nobody told me! I saw it!" she exclaimed. Loki stopped and stared at her.

"You what?" he blinked. She sighed.

"I know all of this because I watched it happen. No one told me anything. Okay?" She sounded almost...annoyed? Loki shook his head.

"You...how much did you see?" he questioned, still rattled. She shrugged.

"Everything I told you. I didn't see anything with Thanos, if that's what you mean. I just got a glimpse," she admitted. Loki relaxed and slumped against the opposite wall, suddenly drained.

* * *

Sierra stared at him, mind racing. What was going on with him? Something about his eyes as he interrogated her...he seemed so...spooked. That was the only word she could think of. Like a horse in a thunderstorm. _What _had_ happened with Thanos? What happened that made him so paranoid?_

There was one thing she was certain about. Whatever it was, it had involved torture.


	5. Games

**Hello, again! Thanks to** **everyone ****who followed/favorited this story, I really appreciate your support! Thank you, currahee506 for reviewing! Yikes, indeed. As always, more reviews are encouraged :). Now, the fun part!**

**Disclaimer: I don't even own the laptop I'm writing this on, technically. Owning Marvel would be ludicrous.**

* * *

Loki stared at the child from across the room. Who was she? How did she get here? Ever since he had attacked her, she'd been silent, glancing at him warily from where she still sat, curled in a little ball against the wall, as far away from him as possible. He himself did not feel like interacting with her, no matter how many questions he had. And he had thousands. What had she meant when she said she 'saw' everything? Did she have some sort of scrying magic? He knew the answer was no. He would have sensed it. Besides the burst of energy when she arrived, he had not felt any magic in her. No, she was a normal mortal girl. Then what?

She was a mystery, alright. Annoying beyond compare, frustrating, confusing, and, though he was loath to admit it, intriguing. But at the moment, only one thing mattered to him: she was a distraction. And he was bored. He still did not want to break the silence, so he contented himself with staring intently from a distance, trying to figure her out in his head. This lasted for about two minutes before she finally spoke.

"Would you _please _stop staring at me?" she snapped. He blinked, but otherwise did not acknowledge her. She sighed rolled her eyes. "Look, if you're going to do something, do something. The uncomfortable silence is killing me."

Loki raised his eyebrows and gave her an innocent look. "I'm not," he replied, not taking his eyes off of her. She blinked.

"Not what?"

He shrugged. "I'm not going to do anything." Now it was her turn to stare at him.

"Why not?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to?" he asked, mildly surprised. She sighed.

"Frankly, yes. Anything is better than nothing." He stared at her for a few seconds longer, then smirked.

"Then I won't do anything."

She glared at him. "Seriously?"

Loki stayed silent, staring at her pointedly, the hint of a smug smile playing across his face.

"Come on, at least look somewhere else!" she exclaimed. He raised his eyebrows, but did not look away.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember being obligated to follow your orders," he mocked. She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Honestly, my face can't be _that _attractive," she retorted when he still didn't look away. Loki couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his lip. He continued to stare just to make her uncomfortable. She huffed and stared back, maintaining eye contact for nearly a minute before suddenly clapping her hands in his face. He blinked.

"What was that?" he asked, confused. She shrugged.

"You weren't doing anything, so I figured I had to." He raised a bemused eyebrow in her direction as she suddenly got to her feet.

"Now what are you doing?" he demanded, following her with his eyes as she moved about his cell. She threw her arms in the air.

"Something!" she exclaimed, spinning around to face him. She collapsed into a chair and glanced down at the table by her elbow. There were a couple books on it, but she quickly discovered that they weren't in English and gave up on that. "Don't you have anything to do here?" she sighed. He pretended to think about it.

"Nope."

It was true. He'd had nothing to do for the past two days. Sierra groaned and stared at the table. What she wouldn't give for a chess board...suddenly, she brightened.

"Hey, you have magic, right?"

"I will not use it to entertain you," he replied, closing his eyes. She shrugged.

"What if it entertained you, too?"

Raising his eyebrows over still closed eyelids, he motioned for her to continue. Sierra smiled.

"Do you like chess?"

Loki opened his eyes and looked up at her curiously. He hadn't played chess in several years. Not since he got bored of beating Frigga every time, and she was the only one who would play with him. Centuries ago, when he was a child, it had been one of his favorite pasttimes.

"What makes you think that I would?" he asked disinterestedly. The game would be over in seconds if he played this mortal child. She shrugged.

"It just seems like your kind of game." He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question how she knew so much about his personality. He shrugged.

"I don't have time for games."

Sierra looked at him and barked a laugh. "We're locked in a cell, we have nothing _but_ time." He stayed silent. Sierra thought for a moment, then said,

"How about we raise the stakes?"

He glanced up at her, interest piqued, wondering what exactly she was thinking.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Like, if the winner actually wins something. Not that we have anything to win..." She trailed off, looking around the cell. Loki was about to close his eyes again, when Sierra snapped her fingers.

"I got it! A question!" she exclaimed. Loki looked at her.

"What?"

Sierra beamed. "The winner gets to ask one question, any question, which the loser must answer truthfully to the best of their capabilities."

That got Loki's attention. That was tempting. He had no doubt that he would beat this Midgardian girl, and then his questions would be answered. Perfect. Too perfect of a chance to pass up.

"Fine," he agreed, trying not to sound excited. He got to his feet and moved over to the table, pulling up another chair. With a wave of his hand, he conjured a chess board.

Sierra had the white pieces, so she went first. Looking over her pieces, she shrugged and moved her pawn forward. Loki nearly scoffed. This was going to be over even quicker than he'd thought. Her first move was useless, completely giving up the advantage she might have had. He reached out and moved his knight.

Sierra managed to hang on longer than he expected. Though her moves were often silly and pointless, allowing him to take almost all of her pieces, she somehow managed to evade any life threatening situations for her king. Now, they were nearing the end, though. He had seven pieces, she had four. He could finish this in three moves.

Loki leaned back, wondering which question he was going to ask. He had so many. Where was she from? How did she get here? How did she 'see' things? Why did she know so much about him?

"Check."

Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at the board in annoyance, seeing that her rook had indeed sneaked up on his king. It didn't matter, this was easy to get out of. This only delayed his plan a little bit. Still, he should have seen it, he scolded himself. He moved his king back and out of the way.

Sierra pursed her lips, surveying the board thoughtfully. Loki had his king, a bishop, a knight, three pawns, and a rook. She had her king, both rooks, and a pawn. She moved her pawn forward.

Loki smirked and moved his bishop. _Two more moves, _he thought. Sierra moved one of her rooks.

"Check."

Loki blinked. How had he not seen that? Still, this was, again, easily avoided, and he slid his king back once more. Sierra moved her pawn.

Loki moved his rook into position. One more move, and he would win.

Sierra moved her pawn. It reached the last square on his side of the board, and she deftly picked it up and replaced it with her queen.

"Check mate."

Loki blinked. How? Scanning the board he saw that his king was cornered by her rook, and her newly appointed queen. There was no escape. He stared at the queen. He had forgotten about that rule. _Damn._

Sierra smiled sweetly up at him, and he furrowed his brow at her. She had tricked him. This entire time, she had planned this. This _mortal _had beaten him at his own game. He wasn't even sure how he felt. Shocked. Resentful. But there was something else...a newfound respect for the girl that he could not deny. He let out a long breath and carefully tipped his king over.

"You win. What is your question?" he growled.


	6. Memories

**Hey, guys! Big thank you to everyone following this story, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I own Marvel. I'm also a compulsive liar.**

* * *

_"You win. What is your question?" he growled._

* * *

Sierra smiled at how annoyed Loki seemed about losing the game. Then a million thoughts rushed through her head as she realized she hadn't actually come up with a question she wanted to ask. She had used that to tempt Loki into playing, since she knew that was what he wanted, but she hadn't actually given much thought to it herself.

_What to ask? _she wondered. She knew what she really wanted to know. _I should ask about Thanos, since I'm still confused as to what happened there. _But something in the back of her mind stopped her. _He obviously doesn't want to talk about it._

Normally, she wouldn't care. But she knew that Loki was dangerous when he got upset. And she knew that, given the choice, she would really rather not have him as an enemy, especially if she was locked in a room with him. So, she thought about something safer to bring up. Something that wouldn't unearth bad memories. Something that she didn't already know.

His childhood. She knew nothing about that. And, the more she though about it, the more curious she got. He'd been alive for, what, a thousand years? More? Something interesting was bound to have happened. And it couldn't all be painful. She decided on a question.

"What is your fondest childhood memory?"

He blinked. Whatever Loki was expecting, it definitely was not that. He thought he knew what she was going to ask. He had been preparing a believable lie to respond with. She was supposed to ask about Thanos. Or Thor. Or Jotunheim. Any of those topics that he did not wish to speak about. But what was his favorite memory? His mind went blank.

She looked at him, awaiting his response.

Loki tried to process the question. His childhood. He hadn't thought about his childhood in years. At least, not the positive aspects of it. What _was _his fondest memory? He didn't even know. He was too shocked to even think about lying, and instead, cast his mind back to a time before all the pain.

One memory came to mind.

But still, he was confused about one thing.

"Why?" he inquired. Sierra shrugged.

"I dunno," she said. "I'm curious."

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed.

"I was 287 years old, about seven in your mortal years. It was the day of the Midsummer festival, and I was watching Odin light the candles. He lit them with magic as he walked around the throne room, and I'd heard him whisper the incantation over a hundred times. It is tradition to light them one at a time, as each candle represents the soul of an Asgardian citizen. Midsummer's Day is the festival of life. Anyway, I watched him light the candles, and the incantation started running through my head as he said it. Before I knew what I was doing, I had approached the next candle in line, and said the spell aloud. A flame appeared. It was the first spell I ever learned. The very next day, Odin got me a tutor."

Sierra nodded as she listened, intrigued, but not surprised that his fondest memory was of one of the few times Odin had shown pride toward his accomplishments. It made sense.

"What about you?"

Sierra blinked. "Sorry?"

"What about you? What your fondest memory?" Loki asked, quirking his eyebrow. Sierra glanced at him.

"I believe we agreed that only the winner gets to ask a question."

Loki shrugged. "Believe me, if I had won, that is not the question I would have asked. This is simply curiosity."

"And why should I answer?"

"It's only fair. You obviously know a great deal about me, however _I _know nothing about _you. _I'd go as far as to say you owe it to me to at least reveal _something_."

Sierra looked at him for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not a very interesting person."

"Somehow I doubt that. You did appear in my cell in a flash of light."

"That was a one time thing. By far the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me."

"You're trying to deter me. It's not working."

She sighed.

"Fine. What's my fondest memory?"

Loki nodded and laced his fingers together in front of him.

Sierra thought for a moment. She was only fourteen, do she didn't have quite as much to sort through as Loki did. Still, it took her a few seconds to come up with one.

"I guess it was when I was four. It's not really one memory, more of a series of occurrences that happened throughout my early childhood. My parents weren't home very often, they traveled a lot and left me in the care of my brother and sister. When I was four, my sister Rachel was seven, and my brother Jamie was nine, my siblings would tuck me in at night and tell me a bedtime story. They would make it up as they went along, and it was hilarious, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was after they had turned the lights out, and Jamie had left the room. Rachel would pretend to follow him out, but secretly hide in my closet until I was just about to fall asleep. Then, she would sneak up to my bed, and whisper in my ear. We would stay up late into the night and just talk, until we got tired, and she would finally climb into bed with me and fall asleep."

As Sierra remembered this, she realized she hadn't thought about it in a long time. She hadn't really thought about any of the positive interactions she's had with her family. She couldn't focus on anything but the bad ones. And, as she thought back to what life was like as a four-year-old, she missed it. A lot.

Loki snapped her out of her reverie.

"So what happened?" he asked. She looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Between you and your sister. What happened?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

"The wistful look on your face. Also, the fact that you're not answering my question."

Sierra shook her head. "Nothing happened. Not really. We just...grew up. Stopped talking. She went her way, and I went mine."

Loki looked incredulous, but didn't push it.

"Why do you care, anyway?" Sierra questioned. He shrugged.

"I don't."

"Mmhm."

Loki glared at her. "Why must you be so infuriating?"

Sierra shrugged. "It's fun."

Loki snorted. "Yes, that's a _great _reason. I'm sure jumping off of cliffs is fun too."

"You're just as infuriating as I am."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I have better reasons."

"And what might those be?"

Suddenly, a voice interrupted them.

"Hey!" someone shouted. They both whipped around to see a guard standing outside the cell, staring at them.


End file.
